There was a vague twinge in the Universe that woke me from my dreams that night. A soft, wordless whisper that gently grazed my mind with fingers like spring petrichor, wisdom surging from strings of lavender and copper smoke, an electric static burst that exploded around me in the darkness. A message, transcribed in the … More Wake
Dear Cora – You are only almost a month old. This letter is one I will read you, I imagine, over and over through your life. Our society isn’t nice to little girls, young women, old women. It tells us, frequently and often, that we don’t fit its idea of beauty. Often it tells us … More An Open Letter to My Daughter
What is the opposite of jealousy? Some may say openness. Others may assert kindness. I think that the opposite of jealousy is faith. Not religious faith, but faith in a person. Faith in their ability and willingness to act appropriately and charitably in a difficult or inappropriate situation. I’m not saying there aren’t instances where … More Faith and Jealousy
I am not willing to sacrifice my self worth for your entertainment.
Oh god. This is torture. This is torture feeling two totally conflicting emotions. Loss and gain. What sights might I see! Ask me for a drink? Or coffee? I can’t decide what I’m doing. Oh god. Wander around the town I grew up in Late nights on dark streets Whispers and my head hangs low … More Oh God
“Do you ever feel like we just… Are? Like we’re not married but we’re just roommates?” Silence hangs between us, loud, static. His eyes on his hands and then at me but he refuses to speak, like he often does. But I’m so tired I can’t even be frustrated, so I just stare back at … More Hurt
I came home from the desert this week. I spent twelve hours traveling from Phoenix to Montpelier and all I can really focus on is all the dirt. I spent my last day in Arizona hiking the White Tank Mountains and circling Papago park, and sure it was windy and dusty- but it was also … More Salt Smog
Tank that idea. I’ve been sitting here for hours thinking that there’s not much left – there’s really not – but there is something. Something reminiscent of tar-stained bones and frequented dive bars, all coiled up in your voice. Striking. Eyes light up across the parking lot as the first person comes out onto the … More Breathe to Shame